Opposites
by chiaroscuroz
Summary: In another world they would be different people, people who change. And yet somehow they always end up on opposite sides. Bliv AU
Pre-zombie Blaine was a waste of space. He was constantly high, or drunk, aspiring to do nothing more in life than party and fool around with pretty girls. He had done many a despicable thing during his life, especially while he was under Mr Boss' wing. He had sold a man enough Utopium to overdose, and then covered up the death without remorse. He had got the young and desperate hooked so bad that they would beg on their knees before him just for another hit.

It was his first meal post-death that changed him. He had been disposing of a body for Mr Boss when the desire to crack the corpse's skull open came over him. That first brain was filled with so much fear, so much pain, so much desperation and sadness. That man had a wife, a family and kids. He had died thinking of them, regretting that he'd never see their faces ever again.

Zombie Blaine went straight. He quit the drug business, quit the partying and the alcohol. He got perhaps the first real job in his life, working in a morgue. He was getting his life together, things were starting to feel…. Normal.

Until she showed up.

Pre-zombie Olivia Moore was just a med student. She had spent her life pouring over books and memorizing facts. She never went out, never had any fun. She had a boyfriend who was perfect, even if he might have been a little boring. She hadn't even touched any alcohol at the boat party, she was too consumed by the need to stay responsible, respectable and safe. Those were the last things she ended up being that night.

Zombie Liv was done with being safe. She was done with being responsible and respectable. She had spent her days among the living doing the 'right' thing, the 'good' thing. She had done everything that the world had told her to do and to want and in return the world got her killed.

Blaine wasn't quite sure how she had found him. He wasn't exactly broadcasting his zombie-ism to the world. Hair dye was too bothersome, so he had stopped using it, but a little bit of Self-tanning lotion every day helped him resemble the living. Unlike her, who was all porcelain skin and shock white hair, but damn did she look good in it.

Apparently she had started a business on the side, and was selling brains that she got from the morgue to other zombies in the city. He had asked where these new zombies were coming from, until that day he had thought he was the only one…The haunting smile she gave him was all the answer he needed.

She wanted him to help her, the morgue could only offer her so much, and as always death was a fickle and inconsistent thing. By joining forces they could offer so much more, and expand their clientele. _We could rule this city_ she told him, _You and I_.

He hadn't remembered her until right then, hadn't remembered hitting on her and smacking her ass. Hadn't remembered raging out and clawing up her arm. But she had. He could tell by the tilt to her voice, and the way she batted her eyes. She knew just what he thought of her, and she was trying to use it against him.

 _No._

Months later when the disappearances began appearing in the papers, he began regretting telling her no. If he had only agreed, maybe he could have prevented her from causing all of these senseless deaths, maybe his help was all she would have ever needed. But he knew better, he had worked with people like her. Nothing would ever have been enough for her, she would have never been able to stay small. Power and greed did crazy things to people, and mixed with tragedy and death it could turn even the best of them into monsters.

One night he tracked her down, planning to talk some sense into her. And if that didn't work, he had resolved to end things, one way or another.

He didn't expect her to react the way he did when he showed up on her doorstep. Instead of raging out, or even questioning how he found her, she just fixed him with that same haunting smile and invited him in. He wasn't sure how he ended up in her bed, or how he kept falling back into it week after week, watching desperately as the death toll kept piling up higher and higher. Every time he tried to talk her down, her lips ended up on his, silencing all thoughts in his head, and he found himself falling further and further under her control.

 _We could rule this city_ she had promised him once, _You and I_.

He didn't know how the gun ended up in his hands, or how he managed to will his fingers into closing around the trigger. All he knew was that he saw her in his last meal, saw the way that she looked at that kid as if she was the predator and he was the prey. He had felt the fear, he had seen the kill. _No more_ he had told himself, _This ends._

But as she lay there, blood staining her white hair, he realized that it wasn't over, that it never would be. He had created her, and she in turn had created dozens more. Dozens more who were hungry and desperate, waiting for their next meal.

He found her list of customers, and with a shaky hand added his own to the bottom. He had created this problem and now he was going to end it. One name at a time.


End file.
